Miriam's Well
by Aelibia
Summary: What started out as a supposedly chance encounter turned into a rather disquieting experience at a resort, and then everything got turned upside down. Hidan and Sakura.
1. The Man in the Cloak

**A/N: **Yup, I'm trying for a HidanSaku. The most cracked-up thing I could think of. Go me. Just for your information, this is going to be slow in coming, I believe, since I need to finish up Abendrot and start another requestfic. Very slowly.

* * *

It wasn't so much that she was surprised to see him at all, but that she saw him in a church in the middle of nowhere. 'Church' being the operative word. She knew that he was a religious man, no matter how strange the religion was, but he didn't seem very church-y, even the _first_ time she saw him, years ago.

She was there to exchange some healing herbs, bountiful in the Fire Country, for some rare and foreign ones that were in demand. Lucky for her, the rendezvous was in this church, which not only provided some relief from the long journey, but a spectacular view. These stained glass windows were handmade, the villagers told her reverently. For ten years, artisans labored on them until they were complete, a shining story woven with shards of glass.

So why was _he_ here? More importantly, why the hell was she standing _next_ to him?

"Long time no see, bitch."

She was quiet. For all she knew, he still had that abominable scythe strapped away somewhere. Maybe it was retractable and he'd stuck it in his back pocket or something. She leaned over minutely to check, but the heavy black cloak he wore obstructed her view. Damn those obstructing cloaks.

"I don't have it with me right now, damn. You kunoichi are all the same, seriously. Bunch of suspicious bitches."

Sakura knew when someone was way above her league, and being immortal was pretty high up there. So she opted for not saying anything, which was just fine with her, provided he didn't get pissed and…and…rip out her femur and impale her neck with it or something.

"Haruno? Sakura Haruno?"

Both parties turned and spotted the figure walking briskly towards the two, holding the package of herbs, just as planned. The abbess, careworn and a bit plump, fairly glided in front of them and handed the package of herbs to the nervous kunoichi, who nearly dropped the bartering Konoha package in her plight to keep an eye on the man—Hidan, wasn't it?—at all times.

Well. The packages were exchanged, so she might as well be—

"Oh, is that your husband?"

—not going anywhere whatsoever. Because his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close, and to further hit it home, laid his cheek on the top of her head.

"Yeah," he drawled. Oh, she was _so_ going to dismember that bastard. "We've been married for a couple months. She's kinda feisty, but I like my women energetic. And let me tell you, this woman is an animal in the sack, seriously."

The nun, instead of slapping him or something, simply put her hands on her hips and chided him like a child. This was officially the most disturbing day of her life, bar none.

"Oh, Hidan, you silly little thing. And you never told us you were married! To think you finally settled down. Well, that's good." The woman turned away from the beaming asshole and looked at Sakura more closely this time. "Is she good to you?"

"An absolute angel of God above, no joke."

"Oh, well that's sweet. Oh! I have something for you two, then!"

Oh, merciful God, no. She wouldn't dare. But the woman pulled out two slips of paper, pink and flowery—was that perfume on them?—and handed them towards Sakura, but Hidan grabbed them before she could do anything.

"Um…what are those?" Sakura stared at the woman, trying to convey a 'help me please, get this fucking psycho away from my body' sort of look, but probably just succeeded in looking sick.

"Oh, sweetie," the old woman cooed. "Those are tickets to the hot spring resort, the best one we have here in the Wind Country. You just look like you need them; you're so thin! And you look like you've seen a ghost! I'm afraid they aren't natural, since those things don't just pop up in territory like this, but I assure you they are absolutely heavenly! You and Hidan will fall in love all over again!"

Sakura choked. Whoa, this was happening _way_ too fast. Whatever happened to the mission, and the herbs, and—?

"Thanks, babe," the silver-haired man replied lightly. "We'll be seeing you around, maybe. Catch you later or something."

"Bye, dears!"

Thirty agonizing seconds later, and the impromptu pair stepped out of the church into the searing heat. Sakura shoved Hidan away from her, but all she really got out of it was a shooting pain in her arms. He apparently had a very strong grip. Strange how she'd already forgotten that.

"Huh uh," he laughed manically. "We have a fucking _date._ At the _springs._ Damn, I can suck up to someone without even attempting it. Those broads are all over me, let me tell you something. Like, seriously, man. Every time I step in there they're trying to give me something. Yesterday it was some tiramisu. That stuff is the shit, I—hey, what's up with you?"

Sakura squirmed and thrashed under his grip, even as he led her—_dragged_ her—down the path that led to the main village, a bustling community nowhere _near_ Suna, unfortunately.

"What is _up_ with me?" She snarled and launched a punch towards his kidneys, which he lazily dodged. "You come out of nowhere and practically _molest_ me, and you're asking what's _up_ with me?"

"Yeah, sure."

"You bastard! I'll _kill_ you! You—augh!"

He grabbed her waist and threw him over his shoulders crosswise facing forward, with a steady grip on both her hands and legs.

"Now, now," he murmured. "Just because you think you hate me gives you no right to be a pretentious bitch. That lady gave us tickets to enjoy ourselves and love each other up like fucking newlyweds, which in that place pretty means screwing each other's brains out. It's basically a fuck resort. Maybe I'll score."

Sakura screamed and bucked indignantly, her shrill voice sounding exactly like those girls in low-budget horror flicks. Instead of running to help like they were fucking _supposed_ to, the townspeople and tourists all just shook their empty heads bemusedly, wondering at this strange, newlywed, fever-stricken girl.

He was _so_ dead.

The water was hot and steaming, the rocks felt like real rocks, and the entire building had heated floors. Okay, so there were _some_ pros about the whole situation, the main one being the opportunity to kick back at a place that practically priced her yearly salary for an hour to soak in a giant bathtub.

"God, this water is fucking hot. Why is it _always_ so fucking _hot?"_

And then there was him. Sakura clenched both hands on the towel she wore, and cursed the fact that it only covered four inches of her thighs. Then again, that was probably the idea. Damned honeymoon resorts. _Damn_ them.

Of course, when she glanced over to observe his entry into the unnatural spring water, she got a face full of dangly. How lovely. Since when did _he_ have the right to shake his junk right in front of her? That was moving the relationship a little too fast. If you wanted to call it a relationship, which of course you _could,_ but…shouldn't. God, this was a headache and a cramp all rolled together.

"Quit staring at my cock. I know it's huge and all, but try to avert your eyes from the unstoppable glory, all right? I don't go around staring at your _tits,_ you know. _Shit."_

He sat down on the fake rock right beside her, not leaving even an inch of space with which to maneuver and possibly escape to the Realm of the Sane. Figured. So they sat there like that for about five minutes, with Sakura feeling incredibly uncomfortable and Hidan looking smug just like the son-of-a-bitch he was.

On top of that, his arm kept inching over her shoulder like he wanted to put it around her waist and kiss her and tell her how much he loved her or some dumb romantic shtick like that. Well, _hell_ if that was ever going to happen.

"You know," Hidan sighed, leaning over and looking her sideways in the face. "You're not screaming as much as I expected you to. You're usually screaming and trying to punch my head off and shit. Seriously, you're acting pretty fucking boring right now. I was really looking forward to having your fist through my spleen again, like last time. I was _dreaming_ about it."

She coughed and tried to lean away, which of course didn't work. He just leaned even more until she wriggled away, following the sinuous pool edge with a hand—the other still held the towel in place faithfully—and pretending he wasn't following right behind. Sakura _especially_ pretended that in the end, they hadn't ended up in exactly the same position, only this time they had a lovely view of the hotel windows. The couple in 32B seemed to be quite entertained with one another.

"Wow. We should try that sometime. That is _true_ fucking. That is the _epitome_ of fuck right there."

"Oh, my God. I don't want to watch this."

"Why? Is it because you're imagining us doing it? 'Cause I totally am, seriously."

"_You_ are _sick."_

"And you are slightly tolerable for the moment. Can't you just roll over and let nature take its inevitable course? We are destined to fuck, like, seriously. Jashin told me."

"And this Jashin person. That's just—oh, fuck. And what the hell—your _spleen?_ You got off on me ruining your _spleen?_ That's _disgusting."_

"Hey, bitch. One man's junk is another man's…whatever. Want some champagne?"

"…What?"

Hidan pointed. Sakura looked. And there it was, a bucket of chilled champagne, one that certainly hadn't been there before, sitting right next to them on the expensive, designer tile. When had they—?

The clinking of champagne flutes brought Sakura out of her steaming pile of mental pain and misery, and she glanced over to see Hidan extracting two thin glasses from the bucket, and then the bottle itself, which didn't look too extraordinary. Also, what the hell? The date on that bottle was _way_ expired.

Serenely, the silver-haired man poured the light, bubbling liquid into the glasses. Sakura reached for a glass with a sigh. If it was drugged, then the drink was obscenely overdue. Why not at the church, or at the reception counter downstairs? Why not five years ago…?

"You gonna drink that, or what? This stuff is apparently fucking expensive. I normally don't go for money, since it corrupts people and turns them from god, but I could see Kakuzu having several multi-cardiac arrests just looking at the damn label, seriously."

"Oh?" Sakura took a small sip. All right, it was good. So she might stay for more. Whatever.

"Yeah, that bastard—did I ever tell you about that shithead?"

"Yes." She whipped her head around and looked at him wide-eyed. "Lots and lots and _lots_ of times. I…really don't want another story. Um, please."

"Okay, okay. Jeeze, bitch. I don't wanna talk about him either." He paused, and they listened to the steam rise off the water, sampling the champagne at regular intervals. It was just like a fancy party! Only people didn't go to parties with towels on. Or…just plain naked. Ugh.

"Hidan."

"Hmmph."

"Where did this champagne come from?"

He glanced at the bucket. "Oh, this place is operated by Suna ANBU when they're off duty. For extra money, you know. Service from the shadows, they call it. And if you're wondering why they aren't on my ass, it's because I'm not in the Bingo Book here. I didn't exactly shine my light on the world long enough to make an impression in the fucking Akatsuki."

Sakura huffed and set her champagne glass aside, and, sure enough, as soon as she turned her back it was gone with a slight breeze. _Damn,_ they were good. Tsunade would probably like to invest in something like this…

"Hidan, you never really told me about all that," Sakura yawned lengthily, completely unaware of her towel slipping down. Her companion, however, was enjoying every second of her beautiful tits, as he would call them. "I mean, Shikamaru said you were at the bottom of a hole in pieces, and so I went to check it out and you were already _healing._ So then I left to tell someone, and when I came back, you were _gone._

"And then, I go on some random mission like two years later and _you're_ there. Just—just standing there _looking_ at me funny. And after that, I see you on _every single mission,_ and it's always like you'd always _been_ there. The people in the town knew you, the—it was just _weird._ Then I found out that you'd been _helping_ me with my missions without me knowing it, and as soon as I found _that_ out, you disappear for five years. I really thought I was done with—are you _listening_ to me? Hey!"

Asleep. He was asleep. That bastard. She heaved the biggest sigh yet and turned over on her stomach, crawling out of the water onto the tile and hating the gravity change. Gravity sucked, and that was just a cold, hard fact. The towel was retied, and Sakura prepared to walk through the doors into the changing room and out of Hidan's life forever. It would work, of course, but only if she didn't look at him. Just didn't look. Didn't—she looked. And there it was. _The_ Look.

"Where you off to, bitch? Leaving me? That wouldn't be the first time." He stared up at her from the edge of the pool with half-lidded eyes, scanning her figure innocently. She didn't know why, but that look made her go weak in the knees. It was probably leftover gravity changing stuff, but then why would his voice have anything to do with it? Because when he talked like that, quiet baritone with a hint of whisper, she wanted to jump on his lap and ride him like a—wait. No. No.

"I…am just going upstairs. To our, uh, room." She paused for a moment. "Wasn't it…seventeen-C?"

"That's it."

"Okay, well, I'm headed up there now, so…bye."

Sakura turned and made a mad dash for the sliding door, all too aware of a piercing gaze following her and a set of long fingers drumming the marble thoughtfully. Of course, it would've helped the drama of the whole situation if she hadn't slipped in the puddles of water stagnant on the escape route (that the ANBU stealth workers had missed in their previous mopping escapades). It would also have been nice if her towel hadn't decided to come undone right then. Damn towel.

* * *


	2. I Love that Elevator Carpet Smell

**A/N:** I love how short I made the first chapter. Know what that means? That I don't have to do as much work. Huzzah. I promise a real plot is coming.

IvyAdrena-Fallacy beta. They equal awesome for having stomachs strong enough to read through this nonsense.

Honorary Too-Long Title: I Love the Smell of Elevator Carpet in the Morning

* * *

The room was pink. Like, _pink_ pink. Like even the wood on the bed was pink. In fact, the only thing that wasn't pink was Hidan, who was lying on the bed in some black pants, hands folded over his stomach and eyes closed, as if he'd been there for hours. He wasn't even _wet._

"It's okay, I fucking hate the décor, too. It makes me want to _kill_ someone. Actually, I think I'm due for—"

"No, Hidan."

Sakura glanced at the clock on the (pink) nightstand and squinted at the (pink) digital numbers. Ten-thirty PM.

"It's late," she announced. "I'm taking a shower now. And no, you can't take one with me. So don't ask."

"Can I take a shower with you?"

The bathroom door slammed, and she leaned against it from the inside. This was just all too strange. Maybe Gaara was playing some sort of expensive, complicated prank on her, and this was all just a staged joke. Maybe Hidan would disappear with a puff of smoke and turn into Naruto, and they'd all have a bundle of laughs over the whole thing, and some more of that outdated champagne.

Then again, she didn't _want_ Hidan to go away. Denial aside, she couldn't shake the fact that during those last five years she'd been hoping to see him again, that it was hard not to jump on him and hug him in the church that afternoon. It would be lonely without him always being there on missions, and she felt like today had been one of the best of her life. Sure, it was extremely awkward at times, but she could never have a stable relationship with the man if they didn't work out their differences ahead of—wait. No. No, no, _no._

_Squeak!_

Sakura turned the shower knob with fury, pulled off her clothes, and went to the bathroom while she waited for the water to heat up. It didn't take long, fortunately, and the medic allowed herself to lean into the water and totally relax, an experience far from the norm these days.

Showering was only a temporary solution to a very permanent (and good-looking) problem, however, and after the pomegranate body wash container was emptied of its glorious, artificial coloring and natural skin enhancers, there was no other option but to step out of the shower and towel herself dry, then realize that she'd forgotten clean clothes altogether. But there they were on the toilet seat: some pink, silk pajamas. Well, they were _kind_ of pajamas. A little sheer for her taste, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Besides, there was a (pink) glorious fluffy robe in the bathroom closet—and who knew bathrooms had closets?—which she wrapped herself in before stepping out into the room again, and there was Hidan right where she left him. She honestly needed to get her chakra-sensing skills upgraded or something, because according to her, he hadn't moved at all.

"They'll bring us dinner or some shit later, like eleven or something," he called to her from the bed, eyes still closed. "And more wine this time. And chocolate. Those make people want to fuck, you know. I think they're on to me."

"Oh, Hidan, you're hopeless."

The bed dipped when she perched on the opposite edge, the characteristic creaking of springs gone. It was kind of foamy, really. At least the bed wasn't out to get her. But the whole situation was still bothering, though.

"Hidan, this is freaking me out."

"Mmm."

"No, really! Think about it. You're here, I'm here…you know, Jiraya and Tsunade were really needing me to go on this mission. You should've _seen_ how worried they were that I might not get these herbs the lady gave me. I sure hope we—_I_ can get back in time."

"So…can this be the time that we pull ourselves together and find a place of harmony in the center of the bed? Or on the floor. Or on the table. It really doesn't matter to me, seriously."

"No."

"Fuck."

"I said no."

"I wasn't asking. That was just a _regular_ fuck. When I say fuck and mean it like fuck-_ing,_ then it's a verb, and you pronounce it differently."

"Oh, what are you, Mister Special Grammar Person?"

"If that's the best you can come up with, then yeah, sure. Whatevs."

They shared a collective sigh, then listened to the recording of Cricket Song and Other Music of the Mystic Night by the Association for Animal Protection Awareness Society coming from a stereo system that you knew was there but never could find.

It was soothing, really, if the thought that one was surrounded by annoying, crop-destroying insects could ever be called soothing. Sakura wished it would remind her of her childhood, when sleepless nights would become gentle slumber with the help of a symphony of crickets dancing outside her window. That would just be so picturesque.

Of course, in reality, the only place they'd be dancing was hell, because her mother put so much pesticide in the garden that if you walked in the backyard and so much as inhaled, you'd either die or get high from the sheer amount of the stuff.

"Are you taking a shower, Hidan?"

"Already did."

"Where?"

"Outside. Okay, so it was more like a fucking bath, but that doesn't even matter, seriously. If I had any germs on me or whatever shit you nurses bitch about these days, I'm sure the little fuckers got boiled alive."

"I am a _medic._ And you need to use soap and clean. It's hygiene."

"And come out of that bathroom smelling like a fucking pansy?"

"It's pomegranate, actually. There's some man-soap in there if you want to be all macho. I saw it."

"Huh."

"Hmm."

And that was how they spent the next hour until she fell asleep.

All good things must come to an end, however, just like cream cheese. Leave it out for longer than a couple hours and it would go bad. Damn stuff.

She didn't know exactly what had woken her up, and therein lay the fright of the matter. All she could see in the moonlight was Hidan, sitting up and glaring at the window. It scared her for a minute, made her think of what he really was, those sorts of unnerving thoughts. So far, he hadn't gone off on her and freaked her out, but here he was terrifying her with an expression alone.

Not at her, though. At something outside.

"Don't move. I heard something, and it wasn't a fucking cleaning lady."

She felt a lump of fear curl up in her stomach. If _Hidan_ was worried about it, then…

"What—?"

"Shh."

"But—"

"Shut the fuck _up,"_ he hissed. "I'm trying to hear."

"Who is it—?"

"He's dead... That wouldn't make any fucking _sense."_

"_Who,_ Hidan? What's going—?"

"Hush."

Sakura huffed, but was quiet for now. There was going to be some major explaining later. Here she was trying to sleep, and there was some weirdo outside the window, apparently, who was also apparently dead. On top of that, the recording had stopped. In scary movies, something bad always happened when the music stopped. It was a definite sign.

But seriously, why did all this have to randomly happen to her? The fun just never ended with this guy. First she had to flash him some ha-ha, and then she had to get involved in some freak incident with him.

Because she _was_ involved, now. She could feel it. It was that same feeling tingling down her spine when she first made the decision to work with Tsunade all those years ago, though that might have just been leftover shock from the Forest of Death. Always consider the possibilities.

And if she wanted to be more specific, she could consider the whole incident of _meeting_ him (for the second time, anyway) to be a sign. A bad sign. A sign that the next years of her life would be filled with "random" encounters by a man who _apparently_ just wanted to "see her again."

"_Hey, bitch. Long time no see."_

"_Augh! No! I thought I _killed_ you last time!" _

It usually went something like that, although this time Sakura's imagination had simply been too degenerate at the time to supply creative ideas to her, such as ripping out his spine and strangling him with it or something. The weird thing was that he enjoyed it. He provoked it.

The guy practically had a hard-on for torture, especially when said torture was being inflicted upon him. _Especially_ especially when being inflicted upon him by her. Was that love, or just insanity? Now that she thought about it, it was insane just to simply ponder that question. No one who could potentially get erections due to seeing copious amounts of their own blood was in their right mind.

"—and then we'll talk about this, okay? Fucking stalker psycho."

Oh. Right. The mystery man.

"You weren't paying attention, were you? I said the fucker is gone now, and we can go and talk about this over coffee or whatever shit people do nowadays. I can't keep up with all that crap, seriously."

He stared at her with a tranquil expression on his face, something that reminded her (without permission) of Sai. Hidan didn't come into her life very often, but he was so expressive, unlike most trained ninja, that it didn't take her long to read his every eyebrow twitch.

This one was Annoyed Expression Number Two, or the Mildly Put-Off Face. It said 'You know, I could destroy the whole damn world and I have to put up with this shit.' Under her past experiences with it, Sakura knew that the best course of action was to wholeheartedly reverse that expression into the usual Happy Expression Number One that she saw him with most of the time. If he looked bored, it was all good.

"Actually," she laughed, high-pitched and nervous. She was in a bed with a horny, immortal man, while wearing pink skank pajamas. Need plan now. "I was thinking about the first time we met."

He brightened up immediately. Happy Expression Number Three, then, I Like Where This Conversation Is Going and I Will Say Something Asshole-ish Face.

"God, I remember that one. That was the one that started it all, wasn't it? Come on, you know you thought I was sexy. You were totally checking out my fine ass before you knew it was the incredible meeee."

"In your dreams!" Sakura rolled out of the bed and fell on the floor on her hands and knees before crawling over to the dresser. Inside, there was her usual mission uniform that Hidan apparently loved so much—

"You know how much I love that fucking outfit, don't you? It's like walking sex."

"Fuck you."

"Hey, that's what I've been saying for years! Glad you finally caught up with my superior intellect. When we fuck, those shorts will be the first thing to break the lamp."

"You're an ass."

It went something like that.

—and it was totally clean, besides.

"Well, that's just weird. I don't like this place at all. Anyway," she continued, looking over her shoulder at him as she began to change, _"youuuu,_ or most of you, were behind a poster billboard thing, so I didn't know _whose_ fine ass I was looking at."

"So you're admitting I have a fine ass?"

She turned around totally, not even bothering at the fact that he could see her bra. He'd seen it all this morning, so what the hell. Then her plan to cut him down with a caustic remark fell out of the window and onto the damn cricket speaker, because he was laying there in the bed with the (pink, dammit) quilt up to his chin and he looked adorable enough to molest. Er, hug. Yes, hug.

"Yeah, Hidan." She turned half-lidded eyes back to the grueling task of unzipping her trademark red shirt. (Which she could easily be identified by if you completely ignored her hair and fighting style.) "You have a fine ass, okay?"

"You _know_ it, bitch! Baby steps. Soon I'll have you on your kne—well, that's a little sudden, I don't know. We'll just do regular sex first, all right? I'm looking forward to it, seriously."

She laughed, despite herself, as she buckled her medic skirt on the side and put her ultra special gloves (they were really gardening gloves, but no one had to know that). He pissed her off, yes, he had a bad mouth, yes, but he was sweet in his own little demented, bloody, annoying, far-from-sweet-in-the-slightest sort of way.

And he _did_ have a fine ass.

"Well, it may be three in the morning or whatever, but I'm sure _someone_ is up at this hour. We can just go down to the ballroom and demand something to eat. And then _you_ are explaining all this to me. Are you—oh, I'm not even going to ask how you did that."

He'd whipped off the covers, and there he was fully clothed in his ex-Akatsuki garb (minus the traditional cloak), ballerina tights and all.

"_Yes,_ I'm fucking ready. I am _always_ ready. So the ballroom, then? You planning to seduce me with a striptease on the grand piano or something? 'Cause I'm all for that."

"Why do you have to turn everything I say into a potential two-person orgy? And bring that scythe thing. We'll need it."

"Because it's occupying my every thought. Did you know statistics show that men think about sex every forty-five seconds? They're fucking right, seriously."

He groped under the bed for a couple seconds and produced Mr. Scythe in all his pointed and ungainly glory.

"So…why am I bringing this? Apart from the fact I would've taken it anyway, I mean."

"The staff might be tired and drunk right now, but no one argues with a shank that's bigger than they are."

Hidan laughed all the way to the elevator, and Sakura felt very joyous, indeed. Happy Expression Number Five was definitely a good sign. Not only did she cure his sour mood from earlier (even though it would have technically sorted itself out in two seconds anyway, the fickle bastard), but she got him to laugh in a way that _wasn't_ sadistic and hair-raising.

The presence of a hanged corpse in the elevator somewhat dimmed the mood, though the sign knifed to its chest, _Wach You're Backs,_ pretty much did in the budding non-insanity, and it wasn't because of the horrendous grammar and spelling mistakes, either. No, this was something much, much more foreshadowing and horrifying.

They took the stairs.

* * *


	3. Dinner and a Striptease

**A/N:** It gets interesting eventually, really. And things are coming slowly, I know, but they're coming. Don't worry about me quitting out on anything, guys.

* * *

It was a good thing that dead bodies no longer had the power to squelch her appetite, Sakura thought as she dug in to her tiramisu.

It was also a good thing that Hidan's scythe delivered all she had hoped for, which was platefuls of free food, along with unusually speedy competence of the hotel staff.

They sat in an ornate ballroom, with marble floors so polished you could almost see your reflection in them, gold leaf decorating the pillars and baseboards, elaborate paintings of ancient gods and goddesses (which Hidan wrinkled his nose at), and a massive, crystal chandelier. What with the rest of the décor, though, it may well have been solid diamond.

"I fucking love sandwiches."

And now Hidan was happy and sated from copious amounts of deli turkey, and that was perfect for her plan, because Sakura wanted to find out why all of this was happening once and for all, or at least find out whom it was that Hidan didn't kill, since that unknown man apparently deserved the blame for her interrupted sleep.

"Hidan," Sakura began, aristocratically replacing her elephant ivory chopsticks on the cherry-wood table. "We need to talk."

"'Bout what?"

"This whole situ_ation._ This is just so crazy I don't even want to _think_ about it, but I am. I need to know some things, because I am _way_ confused right now. First of all—"

"Pass me the mustard, slut."

"Yeah, here. Asshole. Okay, anyway, first of all I want to know why we even met in the first place, and, secondly, how the hell we kept 'randomly' meeting up afterwards, seeing as how I kind of _killed_ you numerous times. I'd also like to know how we randomly got free tickets to this place. That just doesn't add up, if you ask me."

"Well, it's a good thing I _didn't_ ask you, then. Women just talk way too much."

"Go to hell. You know, I don't even see how you just take all of this in stride. This has to be the weirdest two days of my life."

"See? You're thinking too much, and your little woman brain can't handle all of this shit. Seriously, all women were built for is sucking cocks, making dinner, and raising babies. Honestly, I don't know why the fuck you care. It's free tickets."

"The only thing I plan to do to your cock is rip it clean off your pelvis. That kind of talk is a free card for murder. And I _waaaant_ my questions answered."

"You didn't _aaaask_ me a question, bitch. You said that you wanted to _know_ 'blah, blah, blah.' You never _aaaasked_ anything."

"Fine! Ooh, hand me one of those éclairs. Thanks. So why did you run into me in the first place?"

"It was a fated meeting blessed of Jashin. He told me to meet you there, and that I would eventually marry you, or at least fuck you up a wall. Really, either way agrees with my schedule."

"Goddammit. I'm not going to get anything out of this conversation but shit, am I?"

"That is quite likely."

"Okay, okay. Hidan. Will you at least tell me why there was a dead person in the elevator, and why you woke me up in the middle of the night because of someone you didn't kill but thought you did?"

"Damn, that chandelier must weigh like a billion pounds, seriously."

Sakura ground her face into her hands and growled quietly. Hidan looked at the chandelier.

"What, you want to know something, my precious bitch?"

"Yes, Hidan. I want to know something."

"All right, then. Want some sandwich? This mustard is fucking awesome."

"No, not really."

"Don't like mustard?"

"You touched it."

"Fuck you, bitch. But you know what? I'm going to tell you anyway, just out of the goodness of my heart. Ready? Okay. Well, I was back in that hole in that bastard's forest putting myself back together again, but meanwhile, some fucking assholes from a mob somewhere were counting up their little money stash and realized that it wasn't adding up. Turns out that shitface of a partner I had cheated them off some money a while back, and they wanted it. Their little organization is pretty damn huge, so as soon as my fine ass made a reappearance in public, they started stalking me, wanting their money."

"Wait, you put _yourself_ back together again?"

"You're missing the fucking point. The point is that when I told them the bastard kicked it and that they should fuck off before I sacrificed them to my noble cause, they got slightly offended. So now they want the bastard's money from me, as if I was his little partner in crime or something."

"Well, you kind of _were…_but how did you put yourself back—"

"Yeah, so I thought I killed the mobby leader, and apparently I didn't. _Fuck._ That's a pile of shit right there. I went through the steps and everything, and the bastard _lived._ It's a terrible weight on my soul, you understand. Jashin will not forgive me until that guy's dead. I made a fucking commitment to sacrifice that asshole, and I know he's alive now. I felt it last night. God, this isn't cool, seriously."

"Oh, you must have felt his chakra last night. Funny, I didn't feel anything. Well, that explains the dead body in the elevator, huh? _Wait_ a minute. Do you think…?"

"What?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full of bread, that's disgusting. So…do you think that maybe you just mistook the chakra for someone else in this organization thing, and they were the ones who put the body in the elevator to scare you into paying the money or whatever?"

"I _didn't_ mistake _anything."_

"Whoa, calm down. Just thinking of options here."

"Pfft. Yeah, it's probably a little fucking message from the mobsters sort of shit, but that was definitely him. Positive of it."

"Okay, okay. Hey, you're immortal, right? So maybe he is, too. Maybe he worships this Jashin guy or something."

"Are you insulting Jashin by _insinuating_ that that fucker is a member of the most sacred religion in all of earth? That is _far_ beyond insult. You'd better feel damn lucky you're my wife, or I'd sacrifice you right here on this bitch-ass clear table, right here in the middle of this damn pansy dance floor."

"My God, I'm just thinking of _options,_ Hidan. And I'm not your freaking wife."

"Well, your options can go straight to hell, bitch. Because they suck ass."

"Fine, fine. There they go, off to hell. Now tell me how you put yourself back together again. Please."

"Oh, I just do that. Takes a while, so that's why the walking sewing machine had to put shit back on right after it got hacked off. They just refuse to let me heal naturally. It's much better to just let nature take its fucking course. More painful, too. Good stuff."

"Ew. So, uh, could I check you out sometime?"

"Yeah. You can be on top. It's cool with me. I like it when the ladies are dominant. Plus I don't have to do all the work. You know?"

"You sick fuck, I mean _medically._ Can I check you out _medically?"_

"Oh, we're role-playing now? I'll be the delivery boy, and you be the nurse. I got it."

"Why is _everything_ about _sex_ with you?"

"Could you say that a little fucking louder? I don't think they heard you in Mist, seriously."

"God. _All_ I want to do is just _look_ inside your—"

"Pants?"

"_Augh!"_

Sakura picked up the plate of éclairs and tossed them viciously at Hidan, who caught a flying pastry with one hand, and idly deflected the platter with a flick of his scythe in the other hand. She huffed and puffed and sized him up, while he stared shamelessly at her boobs, then sat down and continued drinking her orange juice.

If he wanted to be an idiot every second, that was fine. _Fine._ As long as she didn't antagonize him, everything would be absolutely freaking _fine._ _Jolly dandy._

"Hey, I didn't piss you off too bad, did I?"

But damn, he was such a little cutie. True, he didn't look like he cared at all, and probably all he wanted was some ass, but all he had to do was look at you just right, and you wanted to melt into a pile of hour-old slushie.

"Nah, I'm good."

There really wasn't anything better to do than humor him. Really. The male mentality wasn't built to handle much higher level thinking, so it wasn't his fault that his every concern had something to do with sex.

But his mob thing, whatever it was, was very concerning Sakura at the moment. If all that was true, and only if, then what did that make her? The loyal sidekick? Why did _she_ have to get involved with any of this? Why, why, _why?_

"What are you thinking about, bitch?"

"Nothing, Hidan. Why?"

"You had a weird look on your face."

"Well, it's none of your business, anyway."

"Jeez. Fine."

"Hmmph."

So they sat there a little longer, eating éclairs and sandwiches with mustard, because really, until something else happened, nothing was really going to happen. And why waste your time trying to find that something before it happens? Better to let the something come to you.

And come it did.

"Hello, you fine people; I believe it is time for your check."

Hidan groaned.

"It's the damn waiter," he mumbled into his hand. "I hate waiters."

The waiter, dressed in a typical dress shirt and slacks, fairly floated over to their lonely table, brandishing a leather booklet, most likely containing a disturbing number with lots of zeros.

But recent acts of suspicious nature, coupled with the just-remembered fact that an ANBU squad supposedly ran this place, set Sakura on the edge. Hidan could be a naïve moron all he wanted, but she didn't miss the odd bulge in the man's jacket. Too big to be a kunai, too small to be a katana, so what was it? Did he plan to use it shortly? Sakura visibly reached into her pack and ran her fingertips over a set of poisoned senbon.

Obviously well trained, the waiter, or whoever he was, didn't miss a beat, and coolly ignored her, instead making a wide detour around the table to Hidan's side. Ha. As if that would make him any better off.

"Well, your total is—oh, my goodness."

"Look," Hidan barked, brushing the man with the top blade. "I don't want to fucking pay for this shit. We got free damn tickets, and I don't have any money, so you just go back in the kitchen to your potato peeling orgy and leave us the hell alone. My wife and I just want to have a fucking good time, and you're ruining all of it."

"Oh, you must be—"

"She's my wife."

"Yes, sir, I understand perfectly. In fact, I understand it more than perfectly."

"Huh?"

A telltale flash of silver sent Sakura spinning into action, and she overturned the table bodily, grabbing it by the rim and sending it spinning at the host, who deftly jumped over it, up, up, until he perched on the chandelier. The chandelier, which, Sakura now realized, was not decorated with crystal or diamond, but some sort of bizarre kunai. Gosh, weren't these people just a bucket of fun?

"Who are you?" she shouted up at the man, slipping on her gloves. "Are you one of those freaky—mmph!"

"Shut your mouth, bitch." Hidan suddenly appeared behind Sakura, a hand over her mouth. He flicked his arm, releasing a long rope. "Don't look like you're involved. Just play along with me. Actually, just shut your mouth entirely. I like that idea better."

"You!" the man screamed from above. "You are the cause of all this! Hidan, formerly of the Akatsuki, if even we know that. Fourteen of Suna's best died last night because of some damn criminal boss and his little vendetta against you. We tracked down your entry from the church, and we currently have our first suspect in hold."

"What, you mean the old broad?"

"That woman was hired to lure you to this place, and then to stage a mass explosion to hopefully destroy you and your partner."

"I'm not his—mmph!"

"Shut up."

"Thanks to you," the man continued, jumping to an adjacent fixture and drawing out the small sword from his coat pocket, "we've spent all night trying to defuse those fucking bombs, and now you'll pay the price for it, the both of you. It may create an international incident, but I'm sure we can make it look good, don't you?"

Sakura wrestled away from Hidan's grip and reached into her pocket, finding the senbon missing.

"What are you talking about? What did I do?"

"You are associated with him, and therefore criminal by association, obviously."

"What? Who told you that?"

"Not your concern. In the meantime, don't worry about your check. It's all taken care of."

With that parting note, the man disappeared into the ceiling, and Sakura dropped her fists, frustrated. Could this get any more confusing, or what? She looked over at Hidan, hoping for some sort of explanation, even a sarcastic one, but he glared wordlessly up at the chandelier, tapping the scythe repeatedly on the marble. The sound echoed hollowly throughout the empty room.

The singing twinkle of crystal pieces colliding gently softly answered the tap, lasting for a second of realization and panic before the groan of wood beams sounded once, twice, and then a great crash as the whole chandelier came crashing down.

Hidan and Sakura darted behind a marble pillar, and the man still tapped incessantly on the floor. Over the whistle of automatic kunai and the _thunk_ of the weapons lodging in the wall, Sakura turned to him and stared incredulously.

"Don't worry," he beamed that sadistic smile that she hated. "The fun part isn't coming yet. Just wait for it."

Eventually the _thunk_s stopped, and in the silence that followed, the kitchen doors burst wide open as exactly thirty-seven pissed Suna-nin stormed into the ballroom (wearing assorted restaurant and servant attire), and ran straight for their little-protected hiding place.

"Sweet! Maybe I can make it up to Jashin now with—dammit, I forgot to pray. Hold on a sec, bitch, will you? This'll just take a minute."

"Hidan! Now?"

He didn't answer, already lost in hopeful wishes of blood and gore, the filthy man. Meanwhile, exactly thirty-seven pissed Suna-nin surrounded the two about the marble support, waiting for either a hefty check or a damn good excuse.

"Sakura Haruno and Hidan of the Akatsuki. You are placed under arrest and containment by the Suna ANBU under charges of theft, murder, espionage, battery, and the possession of drugs. You will be held until charges are lifted or affirmed."

Oh, dammit.

* * *


	4. That Makes No Sense

**A/N:** The Communists have agreed to a momentary cease-fire upon the completion of the mission in Germany. Good luck, soldier.

I'm guessing one or two more chapters. This started as crack, and it will end thus.

* * *

"Mmm," Hidan licked his fingers, as Sakura looked on, disgusted. "Suna ninja always have the best tasting blood. Slightly meaty with a hint of tarragon and thyme."

"Have I mentioned you're disgusting?"

"Have I mentioned that I love you?"

"You suck balls."

"How about you just suck mine?"

"I'm not going to respond to that. Because you only want to make me mad, and I refuse to give in."

"All I can think about when I look at you is how squishy your boobs would feel on my chest."

She punched him into the wall, and little pieces of plaster and sheet rock drifted down like ghetto confetti. It wasn't right for him to act the way he did, and he deserved being punched like a bitch. She wasn't mad, of course. Not at all. Really.

Once he'd finished his little ritual, totally ignoring all the irate ninja slowly converging on him and, more importantly, on her, he'd just made a massive freaking circle around his body with little line things, swiped his scythe at all of them, and began systematically stabbing his body in various places, laughing when they fell on the ground in pain.

Sakura, who'd had enough of his little sadist self, yanked the scythe out of his grasp—he screamed profanity at her, as usual—and shoved the pike through his heart. The ninja all dropped to the ground, dead, and Hidan proceeded to bitch and moan at her, following her path into the kitchen, through the pantry, and out the back door.

In an extreme hurry to get out and away, she didn't stop to grab a handful or two of the bundles of money lying everywhere in the checker-floored room, although Hidan did, and stuffed them under his cloak as best as he could. There was a huge and unsightly broach in the way, after all.

"Sweet, now I can get those assholes off my butt! And then I'll get a job and a house and we can get married and have a baby, bitch!"

"LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE," she screamed back. What was the use?

They ran through the courtyard, and Sakura was a little disappointed that she hadn't taken the time to walk through it. The rose gardens and murals were obviously well taken care of, and if she was given free reign to the place she might as well have enjoyed it a little more.

All the same, the sounds of shouting coming from the hotel far behind them worried her, and she began to rethink this whole running plan. Wasn't it better to just stop and let them take her? Then she could explain that it was all a misunderstanding, and despite the fact that she had directly and shamelessly contributed to the deaths of many men simultaneously…she was still a good person. And you may escort me home, thank you.

She was determined to put this nonsense behind her, and had just started feeling better when the hotel exploded in a massive fireball, knocking both of them over from the shock waves, and nearly searing their skin from the heat. Hidan laughed and made jokes, but Sakura was still pissed off, though a little glad that their _immediate_ problems were temporarily over.

The dawn was nearing, she was tired, Hidan was talking her ears off as she ambled east, and she didn't even feel the arms that caught her when she finally passed out.

* * *

"Bwa! Ungh…wha? Whaaa?"

So her first conscious words weren't very articulate.

She woke up propped upright in a chair, which was sitting in the middle of a teashop, which was God knows where, and across the table was Mr. You-Know-Who. And not the bald one with white skin, either. It was _him_ again.

"Are you always this way in the morning? I could get used to it."

Sakura's head swung around heavily, trying to make some sense of her surroundings, but only gaining the astonished stares of many customers around their table. And why did he still have that scythe out? Didn't he _care_ that he looked weird?

Of course, she _was_ talking about the person that had no qualms about waxing eloquent the things he planned to do to her body parts once she would bend the fuck over, bitch.

"…and we would fuck at least three times a day, because it's healthy and burns calories…"

See, there he went again.

"Hidan. What happened?"

"Oh, after the building exploded there were some gas fumes or something and you keeled over and stuff."

"But…we were already so far from the building."

He shrugged.

"I guess you got them inside. Maybe there was a leak. I dunno, seriously."

"Maybe I was just tired."

"Mmm. Hey, slut, I'm not going to wait forever for those coffees!"

"Hidan! Don't yell at them, they could do something to our food! Sorry! Sorry over there! He doesn't mean it; he has, um, Tourette's!"

"No I don't! Bring it here or I'll kill _all_ of you!"

The restaurant suddenly had many empty tables, and the redheaded girl Hidan was so vulgarly addressing dropped a tray with two off-white mugs viciously on the plastic tabletop and sauntered away to the front counter, sitting and glaring at the silver-haired man, who glared back.

"She'd make a nice sacrifice. I wonder if…"

"NO."

"Fuck your moral issues, woman. This is _serious_ business. I need to sacrifice at every given opportunity, or I will be damned to hell forever, where I will be naked in a pot of sulfurous acid, eating raw snake meat."

"That's very detailed. Looks like you've been there before, which doesn't surprise me. But you know, if you're going to sacrifice people, you might as well try to benefit others. You know, sacrifice a serial killer or something."

"But people like that are practically part of the religion, seriously."

Sakura laid her head on the table and groped around for the cup blindly, downing the whole thing in one sputtering, choking gulp.

"I swear, Hidan. Sometimes I _almost_ like you and then you ruin everything. It's for my own good, I guess. I'm going to _take_ care of this issue, and then I'm going to _go_ home."

Hidan looked up from his empty cup and burped.

"Huh? Did you say something, bitch?"

"That's it. I'm going to jump off of this balcony."

Sakura walked outside. The bells on the door tinkled merrily, and the absence of the usual "now, y'all come again" didn't bother her one bit. Because she was going to go on the roof and stand on the edge, and look down at the whole nine feet to the very cushiony bushes below, and then call the whole thing off and come back down. And then her situation wouldn't change whatsoever, because she had accomplished nothing but managing to look like a total idiot in front of the biggest one in history.

Just as predicted, it happened exactly that way.

"Well, that was a waste of time, bitch."

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak."

"I left them a nice tip. Will you love me now?"

"I hate this heat. It's deplorable."

"Hey, it's your picture."

"I mean seriously, there has to be something wrong. It's never this hot this late in the year."

"Please find our darling daughter Sakura Haruno. She is currently in the company of an elderly man and is believed to be in grave danger. Please send our beloved angel back to us. Wanted dead or alive. Wow, they must be fucking desperate."

"How lovely, you know how to read. Wait, what?"

Sakura ran over to where Hidan stood reading the piece of paper taped on the front of the store. There it was in glorious twenty-four-bit color: her picture, and a wanted notice. This time, her inner panic _almost_ led her to ignore the hand creeping inside her shorts.

"Oh, shit. Is this those crazy people again? Get your hand off my ass."

"Well, duh. Let's get you home, then. I really ought to walk my date to the door."

"Are you serious, or are you being a prick?"

"Both. I'm the shit like that."

"Oh, how sweet of you. And I suppose I'll be explaining everything back home by myself, then. Well, I'll come up with something."

"Mmhmm. And the next time you go out on a mission, I suppose I will "randomly" turn up again, shall I?"

Sakura sighed. Then she thought of something completely obvious.

"Hey, if you just give the guys that money you stole from the hotel, they'll shut up, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm going to do, seriously."

"Hidan, that's very unlike you. I'd expect you to hunt them down and kill them."

"Well, no shit. I'm going to do that _after_ I give them the money. I wouln't want anything bad to happen to my future wife, after all. Because I don't give Kakuzu's rat ass if they try and hunt me down. I can take 'em."

"Oh, um, how…sweet of you."

"I know, aren't I great?"

"Sure."

"We will have beautiful fucking children."

"Well, hopefully they'll wait until they're old enough for that."

"Nah, it's best to start young so you can experience everyone. Then you can pick the best one and stick with that ho for life, or until they die. Then you go through the process again, see."

"Should I even bother?"

"Go the fuck ahead."

"You're sick."

"Well, let's go. There's no sense in dawdling around. As I remember, you need to take those motherfucking herbs back to that motherfucking town of yours."

"Yes. Hidan, why do you add unnecessary swear words to every noun possible? It seems a little…unnecessary."

"It adds flair and spice to my conversation."

"As well as some upset stomachs."

Sakura took off down the dusty, dead-tree-lined road, closely followed by the obnoxiously talkative man. She was headed to the next post office, bound and determined to see Hidan's plan to the end. If this happened, then she could go home and live off this mission fund until she had no other choice but to take another one or be evicted from her apartment, like last time.

Tsunade was a little surprised at her apprentice's sudden phobia for missions, but didn't mention it, aside from attributing it to pregnancy, drugs, or a strange man stalking her every time she set foot from the walls. Of course, Sakura was quick to quell these suspicions and continued to frightfully accept missions, waiting for that inevitable

"Hey bitch, long time no see."

to grace her senses. Why did this happen to her? Why not to Ino? Why not to TenTen? Why not _Tsunade?_

Hidan continued to blabber mindlessly beside her about sacrifices and goats and pizza and other nonsense, while Sakura kept her eyes tuned for a sign of some sort to identify a post office, preferably a civilian one. Then, of course, they needed some sort of secure box, as in not a piece of shitty cardboard. Something more heavy, more manly mob-looking, like…a wooden crate. Yeah, that would do.

"Hidan, we're looking for a post office."

"We are?"

"Yes. I'm going to make sure that you're sending that thing right to them."

"Well, you're more of a dumbass than I thought. What makes you think the money will actually fucking _get_ there? Post offices are bad news. I'll just give it to them myself, and you can wait for me while I kill all of them."

"_What?_ Do you even know where they _live?"_

"Yeah."

Hidan pointed at a metal sign bolted to a tree.

"Hidan, that says 'ice on bridge during winter'."

"The one _below_ that one, you dumb bitch."

"Right, I knew that. Ehime? How far is that?"

"Hell if _I_ know."

"I really don't want to sleep out in the woods, Hidan."

"We'll get there when we get there, seriously. Calm the PMS down."

Sakura stomped her feet and slowed her furious pace, letting him take the lead. If they were going to do this, the _least_ she could do was give him the bulk of the traveling workload. She reached into her pocket and felt her bag of herbs morosely, thinking of Tsunade fuming back home.

_This had better be quick. I'm really worried about everyone worrying about me._

"Holy shit! There's cocaine in these money bags, too!"

_I'm so going to die out here._

"You want some, bitch?"

_It's inevitable, so I should take it like a grown woman._

"Woooah, and _joints_. And a sparkly thong. I really grabbed the right fucking bags."

_Just separate yourself from the situation, Sakura. You can make it through your untimely death._

"Will you wear this when I fuck you?"

_I _will_ die a virgin, if it's the last thing I do. Actually, technically it _would_ be, if it really was the last thing I did. Ha ha…ha._

"There's not a top for it, but you don't need one, seriously. I really don't care that much, I just want to fuck you. Repeatedly."

Sakura was never so glad to see a city skyline in her entire life.

Except for maybe that one other time.

"We're here! Helloooo, Dolly!"

There were three men waiting for them at the gate.

* * *


	5. FedEx is the Best Thing Ever

**A/N:** The end! There will not be a sequel to this. _Ever._

* * *

Hidan, being the tactful operator that he was, marched right up to them and demanded a meeting with The Man, whom Sakura assumed was the leader of the mob.

Watching the four interact with one another with enough animosity in the air to kill a small dog, Sakura made a decision.

"Um, Hidan," she called out uncertainly. "I'm just going to hang out over here while you go inside and talk to those people, okay…? I just don't want to get involved. …Hidan?"

"…and this is my wife," the silver-haired man ended his endless tirade. "If you touch her I'll rip your cocks off."

"Just get the hell in here with the money," the slimy one barked back. "We're not interested in your little girlfriend."

"Well, you should be. Just don't be, because if you do I'll seriously rip them off."

Back at Sakura's convenient hiding place—a cluster of dying trees—she groaned to herself and clenched her fists. Why did he have to be so embarrassing? She closed her eyes and called out again.

"I'm staying right here, you insane asshole! You take care of that money thing and I'll just sit here and wait."

"Oh, I don't think so. You're coming with me."

She opened her eyes, and there he was, crouched down in front of her. And he had that blank look on his face again, the one that meant she wasn't going to like what was coming.

"You're coming inside, bitch."

"No! No I'm not! Hey, don't touch me! Put me down!"

"I'm just going to be a minute, all right? Calm the fuck down."

"How can you even say that? You're insane if you think I'm going into that trash heap of a town!"

"Well, we're already past the front gate, so you can't go back now. It would be rude."

"You don't care about manners, considering you don't have them. Just drop me off here at this store. I'll—I'll stay here and shop."

Hidan paused in his trek down the city street behind the three grungy-looking men and looked at the shop in question.

"You want to go into a _pastry_ shop? No. Your ass doesn't need to get any fatter than it is right now. Go to the health store over there and eat granola or whatever shit people eat to lose weight."

Sakura wiggled out of his grasp and hopped to the entrance of the pastry shop.

"I can eat whatever I want, thanks. I'm going in here now. Try not to be too long or I just might have to buy everything in the whole store."

"You wouldn't."

"And then I'd be so fat I couldn't move!"

He laughed sadistically, which was the only kind of laugh he ever used. "If you think that alone would get rid of me, you've got another thing coming."

"Think."

"Huh?"

"It's 'another _think_ coming.' Because—oh, never mind."

"Whatever."

And then he was gone, trailing after the lackeys.

Sakura was extremely glad she had picked a pastry shop as her home base. She'd never believe there could be this many kinds of cakes, pies, and gooey things by any stretch of imagination.

Well, thank goodness she'd stolen some of the money from Hidan's bag. Then at least she could pay for all of it.

"I'd like some of that there," she told the cashier. "And that, and one of those, and three of those, and a quarter pound of some of those there…"

By the time ten minutes had passed, Sakura Haruno had succeeded in obtaining a grand six pounds of heart attack from that little store, and the old man at the counter was on his knees thanking whatever god had sent her to save his business.

Sakura, with no intention of wasting the day, crossed over to the health store on the other side of the street and scoped out the situation there. The layout was the same: tiled floor, wide front counter, and shelves of items on the remaining three sections of wall.

This store was just a bit more…green.

"Hello, miss, how may I help you?" The shopkeeper greeted her cordially.

"Oh," Sakura hummed a bit. "What do you have that's like super healthy to eat? See, I have a—a husband, and he'll only eat healthy food."

"This is a health store," the woman laughed. "I guess you've come to the right place. Anything here is guaranteed to be good for you, even if it doesn't taste good at all."

"Well, you know, he only likes to eat things as plain as possible. If you could just give me some plain oats or raw broccoli or something…he eats stuff like that. A lot."

"What a man."

"He really is."

Sakura left the store minutes later, laden down with two pounds each of granola and broccoli stems. Revenge was more satisfying the more creative you got, really. She'd make Hidan eat all this for making her life a living hell once again.

Somehow.

It was obvious this place hadn't seen rain in a really long time, Sakura noticed as she kicked up a cloud of dust. She could even feel the dryness in the air, so thin and yet so heavy at the same time that she wanted to roll on the ground and try to find any resemblance of comfort she could find, even at the risk of losing all her dignity.

Just as she was picking out a nice spot in the shade of a street sign, a second explosion off in some warehouses in the distance sent shock waves pulsing through the ground and nearly knocked her off her feet. That would be Hidan, then.

Sakura lurched moodily to the middle of the street and waited for the inevitable circus.

She wasn't kept waiting for long.

"Shit, get outta my way, dumbasses!"

And there he came running down the middle of the street, uniform shredded and bloody, dragging his scythe in the dirt behind him and dropping kunai as he went. Behind him, at least fifteen men in suits and five hookers followed at a distance, screaming profanity at the rapidly escaping man.

"Hidan, what the hell—wah!"

He grabbed her around her waist as he sped by, hauling her over his shoulder without missing a beat. Her attempts to question his batshit insane antics were immediately rendered ridiculous as his godforsaken galloping knocked the breath out of her every other second.

"Hi-dan, wha-t are youuu—ow—doi-ng?"

"Running away, bitch!"

They passed through the front gate, adding two drunk guards to the mob.

"I can—ugh—see tha-a-t."

"I couldn't manage to get all of them, so I had to fucking blow the place up. I think that blond shithead had the right idea, seriously. I'm going to be blowing shit up every chance I get. This is great!"

"Oowah!"

"The fuck?"

"Sto-op running!"

"Oh."

Thankfully, he slowed to a walk.

"Hidan? You're being unusually docile. Not even going to argue about it?"

"I guess I'll behave for what time we have left. We're not that far from the fucking Fire Country."

"That's impossible! We're so out of the way from there right now."

"You just got turned around, you stupid bitch. I, on the other hand, took it upon myself to keep track of our position."

"How chivalrous of you. So where are we, then? East of it, west of it?"

"West, no shit. We did come from Suna, you know."

"Mmm," she growled at him and fell silent. Of course, he would have none of that.

"Sooo…when can I see you again?"

"Never! I'll kill you if I see you again!"

"Oh, fuck that. Since you mentioned it, though, I did notice a succinct lack of murder attempts this time around."

"I was too busy to kill you."

"Uh huh. I just think you're finally falling in love with me."

"God, no. You're disgusting."

"Just because I'm covered with blood and guts? Shit, some people are so judgmental, seriously."

"I mean mentally. And besides, if we did have a relationship…"

"I knew it! You're giving in! I fucking won!"

"…then it would be incredibly boring. I mean, all our conversations are the same. It starts out innocently enough, but it ends up with you trying to get me to let you rape me. Entertaining? Somewhat. Healthy? No. And speaking of which, I got you some food."

"A peace offering! Praise Jashin!"

He dropped her in a patch of flowers—her breath got knocked out again—and snatched a sack from her hands.

"Chocolate! I knew you loved me!"

"Wait, what?"

Sakura tore her other bag open, picked up the walking again, and groaned at the broccoli and granola sitting there innocently. He got the wrong freaking—

"Hidan, that's mine. I meant to give you this one. It's better…"

"No, this is fine. I already ate all of it."

"There was a whole pound of chocolate truffles in there!" She screeched.

"And I enjoyed every bite. I knew you always cared about me."

"Oh, I'm going to scream _again,"_ Sakura picked herself up from the bed of flowers and shoved a handful of granola in her mouth irritably. Hidan burped, now covered with blood _and_ chocolate.

"Well, here it is."

"Huh?"

Sakura looked up. There, in front of her, was nothing out of the ordinary.

"What is it?"

"It's the borderline, bitch."

"…Oh…"

"You could always come with me, you know, because I need to go back and kill the rest of those fuckers…"

"No, no," Sakura snapped. "I'm not ever going to see you again. I'll make _sure_ of it."

"And how will you manage that?"

He grinned, and she glared back. It was just like old times.

"I…don't…_know."_

"Right."

"So am I still a wanted convict now?"

"Nah, I'll take care of it. No one takes those people serious, shit. Quit worrying about everything."

"…I feel like this is just thrown together at the last minute."

"Hn?"

"The explosions. The spa before that. That crazy lady in the church. Me leaving, and you just leaving after I leave. It just feels weird. In fact, this whole thing was weird to begin with. So…I'm going to take a really long nap when I get home. And stuff."

Sakura sped up her pace, jogging and then running like hell through the forest, clutching her bag of health food—All organic!—and glancing over her shoulder every few seconds, more relieved by the minute as she got farther and farther from the walking psyche ward.

Doing her best to ignore his shouting, and trying to think of what to say to Tsunade when she got back to the village, she ran and ran, praying no one would patrol by right then. God, that would suck.

"I'll see you again, bitch!"

_Gah, no!_

"Bring me some fucking chocolate milk when you come and see me next time!"

_No, no, no, no._

"Only don't get that vitamin enriched kind. Shit's gross."

In that case, she'd _definitely_ get that kind.

"I'll see you soon! And then I'll convert you and we'll fuck!"

Oh, she just couldn't wait.

* * *


End file.
